Scan barcode
shebephoebe's review against another edition
4.5
This book had me hooked from the opening paragraph. Markham's voice is full of adventure and passion, and the story flows effortlessly from one event to another of Markham's highly eventful life. This is how you tell a good story.
mimsen's review against another edition
I was surprised at how good Markhams writing style is and I was first drawn to book because of the extraordinary circumstances of her life, espacially for a woman at her time.
But I wasn't aware, how much of a focus 'africa' had in the book. I have a huge problem with romanticized portrayal of 'africa' through the lense of privileged white europeans, then and now (looking at you prince Harry). Espacially when a the whole huge diverse continent of africa is seen as one and the same. As a european I would have a huge problem if we all would be seen as one.
This really bothers me, even when i'm aware, that markham lived in different times, i couldn't convince myself to read on.
But I wasn't aware, how much of a focus 'africa' had in the book. I have a huge problem with romanticized portrayal of 'africa' through the lense of privileged white europeans, then and now (looking at you prince Harry). Espacially when a the whole huge diverse continent of africa is seen as one and the same. As a european I would have a huge problem if we all would be seen as one.
This really bothers me, even when i'm aware, that markham lived in different times, i couldn't convince myself to read on.
book_concierge's review
5.0
UPDATED April 2017, after listening to the audio.
Audio book narrated by Julie Harris
Beryl Markham was the first woman to fly solo east to west across the Atlantic, from England to North America. This is her memoir.
Much of the book chronicles her childhood and young adulthood in Kenya. Although she was married three times, not a single husband is mentioned, but she does speak of several of the men who were important to her: Tom Black (who taught her to fly), Denys Finch Hatton (with whom she had an affair), and Baron Bror Blixen (whom she helped by scouting elephant by air). What really stands out here is her love of Africa in the early part of the 20th century.
The book is full of vivid imagery, such as:
An encounter with a lion: He lay sprawled in the morning sun, huge, black-maned, and gleaming with life. His tail moved slowly, stroking the rough grass like a knotted rope end... The sound of [his] roar in my ears will only be duplicated, I think, when the doors of hell slip their wobblly hinges, on day, and give voice and authenticity to the whole panorama of Dante’s poetic nightmares.
Her new home: The trees that guard the thatched hut where I live stand in disorganized ranks, a regiment at ease, and lay their shadows on the ground like lances carried too long.
A peddler and his caravan: There were things made of leather, things of paper, things of celluloid and rubber, all bulging, dangling and bursting from the great pendulous packs. Here was Commerce, four-footed and halting, slow and patient, unhurried, but sure as tomorrow, beating the way to a counter in the African hinterland.
Stalking elephant: One bull raised his head, elevated his trunk, and moved to face us. His gargantuan ears began to spread as if to capture even the sound of our heartbeats. By chance, he had grazed over a spot we had lately left, and he had got our scent. It was all he needed. I have rarely seen anything so calm as that bull elephant – or so casually determined upon destruction. It might be said that he shuffled to the kill. Being, like all elephant, almost blind, this one could not see us, but he was used to that. He would follow scent and sound until he could see us, which, I computed would take about thirty seconds.
On learning to fly: We began at the first hour of the morning. We began when the sky was clean and ready for the sun and you could see your breath and smell traces of the night. We began every morning at that same hour, using what we were pleased to call the Nairobi Aerodrome, climbing away from it with derisive clamour, while the burghers of the town twitched in their beds and dreamed perhaps of all unpleasant things that drone – of wings and stings, and corridors in Bedlam.
The book was originally published in 1942 and quickly disappeared. But Ernest Hemingway found a copy, praised her writing and it was re-issued. It became a bestseller in the 1980s, and has been in print ever since.
Markham was an independent woman who lived life to the fullest, and on her own terms. While there has been significant controversy over whether she actually wrote this memoir (vs her third husband ghost-writing it for her), I still highly recommend it!
Julie Harris performs the audio; she is a fine actress and has good pacing. But the production of this audio left a bit to be desired. Her breaths, swallows, and the occasional noise of turning a page on the manuscript detracted from the audio experience.
Audio book narrated by Julie Harris
Beryl Markham was the first woman to fly solo east to west across the Atlantic, from England to North America. This is her memoir.
Much of the book chronicles her childhood and young adulthood in Kenya. Although she was married three times, not a single husband is mentioned, but she does speak of several of the men who were important to her: Tom Black (who taught her to fly), Denys Finch Hatton (with whom she had an affair), and Baron Bror Blixen (whom she helped by scouting elephant by air). What really stands out here is her love of Africa in the early part of the 20th century.
The book is full of vivid imagery, such as:
An encounter with a lion: He lay sprawled in the morning sun, huge, black-maned, and gleaming with life. His tail moved slowly, stroking the rough grass like a knotted rope end... The sound of [his] roar in my ears will only be duplicated, I think, when the doors of hell slip their wobblly hinges, on day, and give voice and authenticity to the whole panorama of Dante’s poetic nightmares.
Her new home: The trees that guard the thatched hut where I live stand in disorganized ranks, a regiment at ease, and lay their shadows on the ground like lances carried too long.
A peddler and his caravan: There were things made of leather, things of paper, things of celluloid and rubber, all bulging, dangling and bursting from the great pendulous packs. Here was Commerce, four-footed and halting, slow and patient, unhurried, but sure as tomorrow, beating the way to a counter in the African hinterland.
Stalking elephant: One bull raised his head, elevated his trunk, and moved to face us. His gargantuan ears began to spread as if to capture even the sound of our heartbeats. By chance, he had grazed over a spot we had lately left, and he had got our scent. It was all he needed. I have rarely seen anything so calm as that bull elephant – or so casually determined upon destruction. It might be said that he shuffled to the kill. Being, like all elephant, almost blind, this one could not see us, but he was used to that. He would follow scent and sound until he could see us, which, I computed would take about thirty seconds.
On learning to fly: We began at the first hour of the morning. We began when the sky was clean and ready for the sun and you could see your breath and smell traces of the night. We began every morning at that same hour, using what we were pleased to call the Nairobi Aerodrome, climbing away from it with derisive clamour, while the burghers of the town twitched in their beds and dreamed perhaps of all unpleasant things that drone – of wings and stings, and corridors in Bedlam.
The book was originally published in 1942 and quickly disappeared. But Ernest Hemingway found a copy, praised her writing and it was re-issued. It became a bestseller in the 1980s, and has been in print ever since.
Markham was an independent woman who lived life to the fullest, and on her own terms. While there has been significant controversy over whether she actually wrote this memoir (vs her third husband ghost-writing it for her), I still highly recommend it!
Julie Harris performs the audio; she is a fine actress and has good pacing. But the production of this audio left a bit to be desired. Her breaths, swallows, and the occasional noise of turning a page on the manuscript detracted from the audio experience.
nightowl4127's review against another edition
adventurous
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
Remember when reading this, the author lived in the early part of the 20th century - beliefs were different then. However, the respect she has for the various peoples of Africa she knew, in a time when white colonials were ‘better than,’ is refreshing.
Content Warnings
Keep in mind the era in which this author lived and the belief systems in place.
dustysummers's review
4.0
"Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance. The cloud clears as you enter it. I have learned this, but like everyone, I have learned it late."
kathleenguthriewoods's review
5.0
Memoir, travelogue, stories of unbelievable adventures. What an extraoridinary life she led! I took my time with this book to take it all in and to enjoy her gorgeous command of language.
Coming up on my to read list is "Circling the Sun" by Paula McLain, a biography of Beryl Markham. I hear it's also excellent, but I wanted to read the stories is Ms. Markham's words/voice first.
Coming up on my to read list is "Circling the Sun" by Paula McLain, a biography of Beryl Markham. I hear it's also excellent, but I wanted to read the stories is Ms. Markham's words/voice first.
wanderingmole's review
4.0
An immersion into a different time and a different world by an author with a reflective, confident and distinctive voice.
_____________
“A map in the hands of a pilot is a testimony of a man’s faith in other men; it is a symbol of confidence and trust. It is not like a printed page that bears mere words, ambiguous and artful, and whose most believing reader - even whose author, perhaps - must allow in his mind a recess for doubt. A map says to you, ‘Read me carefully, follow me closely, doubt me not.’ It says, ‘I am the earth in the palm of your hand. Without me, you are alone and lost.”
“I could stare up at the ceiling of my bedroom in Aldenham House, which was a ceiling undistinguished as ceilings go, and feel less resolute than anxious, much less brave than foolhardy. I could say to myself, ‘You needn’t do it, of course,’ knowing at the same time that nothing is so inexorable as a promise to your pride.”
“You can live a lifetime and, at the end of it, know more about other people than you know about yourself. You learn to watch other people, but you never watch yourself because you strive against loneliness… Being alone in an aeroplane for even so short a time as a night and a day, irrevocably alone, with nothing to observe but your instruments and your own hands in semi-darkness, nothing to contemplate but the size of your small courage, nothing to wonder about but the beliefs, the faces, and the hopes rooted in your mind - such an experience can be as startling as the first awareness of a stranger walking by your side at night. You are the stranger.”
_____________
“A map in the hands of a pilot is a testimony of a man’s faith in other men; it is a symbol of confidence and trust. It is not like a printed page that bears mere words, ambiguous and artful, and whose most believing reader - even whose author, perhaps - must allow in his mind a recess for doubt. A map says to you, ‘Read me carefully, follow me closely, doubt me not.’ It says, ‘I am the earth in the palm of your hand. Without me, you are alone and lost.”
“I could stare up at the ceiling of my bedroom in Aldenham House, which was a ceiling undistinguished as ceilings go, and feel less resolute than anxious, much less brave than foolhardy. I could say to myself, ‘You needn’t do it, of course,’ knowing at the same time that nothing is so inexorable as a promise to your pride.”
“You can live a lifetime and, at the end of it, know more about other people than you know about yourself. You learn to watch other people, but you never watch yourself because you strive against loneliness… Being alone in an aeroplane for even so short a time as a night and a day, irrevocably alone, with nothing to observe but your instruments and your own hands in semi-darkness, nothing to contemplate but the size of your small courage, nothing to wonder about but the beliefs, the faces, and the hopes rooted in your mind - such an experience can be as startling as the first awareness of a stranger walking by your side at night. You are the stranger.”